


Drown

by lilacangel



Category: Bloodborne (Video Game)
Genre: Anal, Group Sex, M/M, Murder, Oral, Victim Blaming
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-21
Updated: 2021-02-21
Packaged: 2021-03-18 13:21:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,751
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29610048
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lilacangel/pseuds/lilacangel
Summary: Sequel to "Reach Out to Me".Laurence realizes he must take matters into his own hands.
Relationships: Laurence/Original Male Character(s)
Kudos: 4





	Drown

**Author's Note:**

> I suppose this is Laurence's start of darkness~ I mean, it's not undeserved. Besides, Wagner is an asshole. 
> 
> Like the past fic, my choosing not to describe the other characters during the group sex was on purpose. Whatever you imagine them as is correct.
> 
> Enjoy :3

_Vicar Laurence of the Healing Church is not the noble man that people believe him to be. He is a perverted, shameless man who entices the richer residents of Yharnam with his body in order to keep the funding going. At least that’s what the rumors have to say about him. They circulate throughout town, causing people to doubt whether Laurence is the honorable man he presents himself to be._

“Laureeeeence!”

Amelia’s cheerful voice echoed throughout the hallways. With a skip in her step she caught Laurence up in a tackle hug, giggling as she squeezed her arms around him tight. Maria followed close behind, sighing a little at the little girl’s boisterousness.

“Amelia—” he gasped out “—Can’t — breathe—”

“Oh. Oops.” A little dejected, she helped Laurence off the ground and shifted slightly. “Sorry…”

“It’s nothing. Just be a bit more careful next time, okay?”

“Okay. Say, I have a surprise for you!” Beaming, Amelia fished around in the pockets of her dress but upon finding nothing grew confused. “Huh, that’s strange. I thought I had my flowers with m — oh no, I said what the surprise is!”

Shaking her head and letting out a slight laugh of amusement, Maria reached into the pouch at her side to pluck out several daisies. “There’s no need to worry, Amelia. I kept them in my pouch after you gave them to me to keep safe, remember?”

“Oh yes, that’s right! Anyways, Laurence, please pretend that it’s still a surprise, here’s what I have to give you!” A large smile once more adorning her face, Amelia presented the daisies to Laurence with pride. “Lady Maria and Ludwig helped me find them! I notice that you keep getting a lot of flowers from people, but they’re all roses. And I know you said you like daisies better, so I picked some for you.”

The roses, Laurence recalled with a slight pang of displeasure, were means of his more well-off patrons to flaunt their wealth towards him. _Look at me,_ the roses seemed to say, _The one who gifted me to you was far richer and influential than you. You climbed your way to the top but it was not by fair means. We hold power over you._

He pushed the thought out of his mind and ruffled Amelia’s hair, taking the daisies from her waiting hand. “Thank you, Amelia. They’re lovely.”

“She seems to be getting much healthier,” Maria mused. “I hope the same can hold true for the other children in our care.”

“I think it will. It’s plain to see that the effects of the Old Blood work wonders on our patients.” Indeed, when they had first met Amelia she had been one among many frail, sickly orphaned children in danger of dying. Now there was a healthy flush of color to her cheeks, a tangible energy to her demeanor.

“I still fret, though. The appearance of beasts nearby has only been increasing — it’s really worrisome. I hope nothing happens to anyone here, let alone the children.”

“And it’s understandable of you to worry, Lady Maria. But I think that we’ll be able to resolve any issues that may come up. I’ll have to hold a meeting with the others to discuss a proper plan of action, though.”

“What’re you two talking about?”

Amelia stared up at the pair with innocent gray eyes.

“Boring grown-up things, nothing you need to worry about.”

“Hmmph. I’m not that little, Laurence — I’m nine! It’s not fair that you’re keeping secrets from me, so I’m going to have to ask you to give me back the daisies I spent so long picking for you. And no,” she added with a pouting glance towards Maria, “You’re not going to carry them. ‘Cause you’re keeping secrets from me too with Laurence.”

With that, Amelia pulled the daisies from Laurence’s hand and clutched them tightly to her chest.  
Though he struggled to hold back his laughter at Amelia’s endearing actions, Laurence couldn’t help but be reminded of all the secrets that he was actually forced to keep.

“Ah, Vicar Laurence. I’m sorry to interrupt the conversation, but I was looking for you.”

Gehrman’s footsteps echoed upon the tile floor to the Church. Laurence turned his faze away from the glowering Amelia and entertained Maria to greet him.

“There’s no need to apologize, Gehrman. What is it you wanted to discuss?”

“The Hunt is scheduled for tonight as it is the nights prior, but if my memory serves you won’t be there.”

“Ah, right. I have a meeting to attend with some of the church’s patrons — we’ll be there to discuss matters of finance.”

“How positively dreary.”

_I wish it was dreary._ “Yes, but there’s nothing I can do about it.”

“I know, I just…” Gehrman fell silent.

“Is this because of the rumors? There’s no need to worry, Gehrman. These are reasonable, rational people with good social standing who have repeatedly shown generosity to us in the early days of the Church. I’ll be quite alright, I doubt that wine conversation will be much more than paperwork. And you know how ridiculous rumors can be. This is no exception.”

He turned back to the other two. “I’m not going to be here tonight — I have another meeting.”

“Let me guess,” said Amelia, “You’re going to discuss grown-up things?”

“Very boring grown-up things, Amelia. Trust me, you would hate it. We talk about finances. Money. Math.”

“Ick.”

“I suppose that means that someone will have to take your place in looking after the infirmary patients tonight?” Said Maria.

“Yes. I think we’ll be able to do so soon enough, though.”

“Good, good. I’ll see what I can do about getting Ludwig to help out.”

“Ludwig is a fine option.”

With that Laurence turned on heel, ready to prepare for tonight’s meeting—

“Hey, Laurence?” 

He glanced back. Amelia fidgeted awkwardly, still cradling her daisies close to her chest.

“I wanted to say sorry. I shouldn’t have grabbed your flowers back from you. That was bad manners. So… I want you to have these back.”

Smiling gently, he bent down and took the daisies from Amelia’s outstretched hand.

“Thank you, dear. That was very mature of you to apologize — I’ll be sure to put these in a vase with water and take good care of them. If I get back early enough tonight I’ll be there to read a story to you and the other children, okay?”

“Yay! Thank you!”

He held the daisies with the utmost care as he walked off, treating them as though they were fine porcelain. Laurence would cling to what little shred of genuineness he could have.

* * *

Though Laurence made his way towards those luxurious chambers with haste (he was not eager, he simply feared what might happen if he was late and such an occurrence angered Wagner) it seemed as though the twisting corridors to the mansion stretched on forever. He lowered his gaze to the floor beneath him with every step — he knew what awaited him tonight. There would be more waiting to devour Laurence than just Wagner, men drawn to him like insects to fresh fruit. So he followed the servant down the winding halls, acutely aware of what would entail in a matter of moments. These men had no respect for his intentions nor his position as Vicar, for them he would be passed around like a toy in exchange for money.

“Good evening, gentlemen,” Laurence greeted flatly as he stepped into the room. The other occupants were scattered about: Some chatting upon the plush velvet seats, others chattering away over rich red wine. The one space in the room that remained untouched was the large, luxurious bed covered with silken sheets. When the guests caught sight of Laurence, however, a hush fell over them.

Wagner rose from his seat and guided Laurence into the room via a hand upon his shoulder. He was repulsed at the touch, but tried to remain as unruffled in appearance as he could.

“Just in time, as per request — our beloved First Vicar of the Healing Church.”

Laurence gazed upon the gentlemen with solemn, dark blue eyes. Seeing him say nothing to follow up, Wagner continued.

“Your outfit looks far too heavy for indoors — there’s no need to wear such heavy clothing here where it’s so warm. Why don’t you take off a few layers? You’ll certainly be more comfortable.”

There was a rustling of clothing as Laurence peeled away his vicar’s robes and let them fall to the floor — his shoes, however, remained on — to reveal what was underneath. What he wore was a revealing replica of his vicar’s robes, the white flaps of the front and back attached to the black collar barely covering him up. Attached by garters to what could barely be called underwear were stockings, the lace of which dug into his skin. Wagner, he knew, had specially commissioned this for him. Laurence understood full well what he was perceived as to the man — a toy — and if he had the opportunity to remind him that he was not really in control of his position, he would.

There was a collection of gasps and soft murmurs of surprise. Then—

“Have you no pride, Vicar Laurence?”

“How shameful of you!”

“And here I thought you were a pure and chaste sort…”

“Why do you stand before us dressed like a harlot might be, tempting us so?”

_I’m not dressed like this because I want to be,_ Laurence thought furiously. He closed his eyes, the cool air on his close-to-bare skin the one comfort he had throughout this humiliation. Perhaps if he tried hard enough he could block out the lecherous whispering circling around him and pretend that the partygoers here weren’t eyeing him like starving wolves ready to tear their teeth into a plump chicken.

“I’m sure you have many questions to ask of Laurence, but you’re overwhelming him — I’ll answer in his stead.”

_You lying_ brute.

“He’s requested your company, and as a way to show his gratitude to your generosity in all of your donations to his cause has offered up his body to you.”

Laurence opened his eyes so he could give Wagner a pained glare. He knew it was all for nothing, though. Wagner certainly wouldn’t take heed of his silent begging to be let go.

Hands — rough, greedy hands — began to grope at Laurence’s body. Wagner twisted his arms so that they were held behind his back; if Laurence had thought earlier he had an inkling of a chance of escape he certainly didn’t now. These men were touching at him all over: His arms, his stomach, between his legs to clumsily grope at his cock and make him unwillingly hard. Laurence simply gritted his teeth and uttered a quiet plead of “Stop…” He despised it: The way one of the men circled his fingers around the protruding head of his slowly stiffening cock, the fingers brushing over his raised nipples through the thin tunic he wore, how he was helpless. He could run but he _knew_ what these men were capable of.

Wagner confirmed it moments later, whispering against the shell of Laurence’s ear, “If you so much as try to run away from here, I’ll kill you. Or maybe something unfortunate might happen to your beloved Healing Church…”

Shuddering, Laurence remained stiff beneath the hands roaming over him.

“Now, now, gentlemen. Don’t be so forceful, you’re scaring the poor thing. Look at how he’s shaking! You ought to treat Vicar Laurence with a little more respect, at least allow him room to get a bit more comfortable before toying with him.” With that, Wagner shoved Laurence onto the bed.

The silky sheets beneath him were a brief relief to Laurence. Then came the hands grabbing at him forcefully all over again. He reached out to crumple up one of the sheets in his fist when one of the men circled his arms around his waist, rocking into him — to his horror, Laurence felt his very hard cock pressing at his backside through his clothes.

Laurence gasped when he felt someone’s cock pressing at his hand. Struggling to concentrate as he twisted around beneath the many hands feeling him up, Laurence grabbed hold and began to tug his fingers up and down. He knew what was expected of him, he had used his hands on Wagner so often before that he’d lost track of just how many times.

First came fingers prying his lips apart, then a cock was shoved into his mouth. Laurence sputtered and gagged, struggling to accommodate for the man. He twisted his head as his eyes stung with tears, trying desperately to adjust his position when someone hissed “Mind the teeth.” Faint choking noises escaping his mouth, Laurence began to suck.

“I made sure of it that he was stretched open properly for you all today,” said Wagner, his hand moving to pull away the fabric draped over Laurence’s ass. He slipped his fingers into the pink, puckered hole now widened and properly soft thanks to his earlier ministrations, continuing with, “He used plenty of toys on himself so that he’d be ready to take your cocks.”

Kos, someone was feeling Laurence up. He shrieked around the cock in his mouth, nearly choking on his own spit as a warm hand cupped his cock and began to yank at him. Someone else slipped their cock into his free hand and Laurence took hold of them, fingers cupping around the veiny thing and moving. He could feel the pre-cum slick on both cocks, tongue clumsily lapping at the appendage forced into his mouth.

He let out a distressed moan when the man behind him slammed his pelvis forward, forcing the coiled walls of his ass apart. The movements were rough, with ragged-edged fingernails digging into the curves of his hips, but they were not painful. Laurence writhed around in despair as the man rutted into him, slick cock scraping against his insides. It was all far too much: The hands groping at him, the cocks forced into his body. When Wagner yanked hold of him by the hair to give him a triumphant glance, the only thing Laurence could wonder was, _When will it all end?_

“Oh,” said the one using his ass, “He’s sucking me right in. He’s wonderful.”

“Isn’t he?”

Tears leaked out of Laurence’s eyes, not from the pain of being penetrated (a pain he did not feel) but because he was being used. This was what Wagner delighted in, the process of making him break all over again. And Laurence couldn’t help but hate it.

“Yes, who knew that a vicar of all people would make for such a splendid little whore?”

The first sticky burst of cum sprayed into Laurence’s hand. He moved his fingers stiffly, the feeling of it dripping down his skin an unpleasant one. This, Laurence realized, was only the first occurrence of climax. The other men had not had their fill yet.

And then there was the unwilling arousal he felt. His cock twitched hard against his stomach, pre-cum wetting his skin. Though Laurence wanted nothing more than to be far, far away from here, every fibre of his body ached for orgasm — it enveloped in a haze, mewling and drooling replacing any begging to cease this he might have had, forcing himself to thrust back against the man taking him by the ass.

His sobs were muffled as he reached his climax, a thin stream of cum jetting out from his cock. It felt as though he was on fire, he didn’t _want_ it whatsoever. This was how these men saw him: It was his fault for wearing what he did, so no matter how much he truly wanted to be let go and forgotten he did not deserve it. And, Laurence thought with a heavy heart, they were right.

He tuned out the empty words of praise for his appearance from the men, unwilling pushing back against the man thrusting in and out of him, and letting the hands groping at him continue. He felt spent, even though this was only just the beginning.

The man stuffing Laurence’s mouth came at last, salty cum pooling against his tongue. Laurence gagged, forcing himself to swallow it as he had with Wagner time and time again. Some of it spilled past his lips in small droplets, staining his skin and the bedsheets, but he swallowed what he could. The man pulled out of his mouth, saliva glistening on his cock as he muttered something about how whorish Laurence looked, before someone else plugged up his mouth again.

A second orgasm began to build up in Laurence. Though he’d made feeble struggles before he had all but given up now. To resist was futile, and would mean Wagner’s anger or worse. He despised it, letting out choked sobs as the man inside his ass finished, the cum coating his insides making him feel utterly dirty and disgusting. These men were like maggots swarming to a corpse to feast upon it. But all he could do was satisfy the men encroaching in on him, pull and tug at their cocks and let them use him as their toy until they were satisfied. Though he had tried his best to shut out the voices and simply focus on what little pleasure his body got, Laurence still caught some of the words the men surrounding him said.

“He’s like a little harlot, that one.”

“It’s lovely to see him cry.”

“Gods be _damned,_ it feels good to be inside him.”

“Maybe he ought to discard his position as Vicar of the Healing Church and let himself be used like a common slut, it’s all he’s good for.”

Laurence climaxed a second time with a pained wail, and that only made the whispering increase. 

“So he gets off to being used, how shameful.”

“Just like a bitch in heat.”

A new emotion made Laurence’s heart clench as the men continued to toy with him: Rage. He stared at Wagner, now a spectator to this all, watching him press his knees to the bed as his mouth and ass and hands were filled up. Wagner was the one responsible for his misery, he’d lied to him and violated him and broken his promises and forced him here. He knew it was his fault, but Wagner…

Laurence shut the thought out of his mind after that. But he knew what had to be done.

* * *

“You were right about wine being a nice prelude to tonight’s meeting” Wagner declared.

Laurence eyed the drinks, then felt the pouch in the pocket of his robes. Tonight it was just the two of them, as Laurence had hoped it to be. He would be killing two birds with one stone, he realized — not only would this be beneficial to the Church, but he would finally, finally be free.

“Indeed. Thank you, Wagner.”

He turned his back and Laurence seized his chance. He emptied the barely visible powder into one of the glasses, watching it dissolve into the dark red liquid. His heart pounding in his chest he feared that Wagner would turn around too soon and catch sight of what was happening. But he was lucky; he had done the deed quickly and stuffed the pouch back into his robes, trying to look as casual as he could.

“Shall we enjoy ourselves?” Wagner asked. 

“I suppose so.”

Laurence sipped at his own, poison-free glass. He had acquired this easily enough, all it took was some scrounging about in the woods and scanning through the old medical books he’d had at Byrgenwerth. This was a fast-acting solution, one that could kill a grown man in a matter of moments if ingested all at once. But small doses were said to kill gradually, and if done carefully enough could be made to look like illness. So that was what Laurence had been doing, slipping small doses of the concoction into Wagner’s drink every night before he had his wicked way with him. He knew if he did it in one fell swoop that it would draw suspicion to him — and though Wagner seemed more sickly as time went on, his spirits were up thanks to Laurence forcing a facade of willingness around him.

“I must say, Laurence, that you’re looking a good deal more content these days. It’s quite relieving that you seem to at last be getting used to your duties towards me.”

“Ah, well I am feeling more content these days.”

“Good to hear, is there any reason for that?”

He eyed Wagner over the rim of his glass. _Wait_.

“I think that the business of the Church is going well, in no small part thanks to you.”

“I’m surprised that you’re expressing gratitude of all things towards me, but the donations are simply—”

“Oh, it isn’t the donations.”

“What is it then?”

“It’s how you’ll be used to increase business.”

He waited with a pause, enjoying the bittersweet taste of wine. Then came the choking noises as Wagner coughed and sputtered, glass dropping from his hand and shattering on the floor. Foamy spit dripped from his mouth, his movements grew stiff. Laurence said nothing this entire time — why should he? At long last Wagner would finally be paying for all the humiliation he’d made him feel. He could only imagine how much pain the man was in, and Laurence reveled in it. At last he had his revenge.

By the time he finished his drink Wagner was dead on the floor.

This would be the first of a strange plague that had swept over Yharnam. Unfortunate as it was that while one of the Healing Church’s more wealthy patrons had died so suddenly, they were far more financially stable now than they were when they had started. This would be a true example of the Old Blood’s effects of healing upon Yharnam’s people, as they’d go to the Church to find a proper cure for this odd ailment.

Laurence thought back to the daisies Amelia had gifted him so long ago. He could not go back to those more carefree, peaceful days. He could only go forward — now, though, he was taking the lead.

And if any of the other patrons got too suspicious, well… money wouldn’t buy their way out of fatal illness. He would take care of them if push came to shove, too.

**Author's Note:**

> I guess I can't torture Laurence TOO much, I felt obligated to write a sequel to this story where Laurence gets revenge on his rapist. Guess I felt like I could use the catharsis factor...
> 
> EDIT: I've disabled comments because I'm not happy with this and don't really want comments as a way to remind me of this work existing. I have left it up for reader's convenience, but otherwise I don't want comments.


End file.
